


Special Delivery

by trascendenza



Category: Batman Begins (2005), Superman Returns (2006)
Genre: M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-19
Updated: 2006-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark gets a surprise package.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

_Clark,_

_Package in my office for you. The woman who delivered it said you needed to open it somewhere private (she was a little strange), so I told her to put it in there. Hope that’s okay. I’ll be out the rest of the day, so feel free to grab it whenever._

_-Richard_

Clark crumpled up the note and walked quickly to Richard’s office, the possibilities already running through his mind—had one of his enemies figured out that he was Clark Kent? The thought that his whole life here might be compromised was a daunting one—one he wasn’t ready to face yet. He fought to keep calm as he walked into Richard’s office and saw the long, rectangular box that had no return address.

Shutting the door behind him, he opened the envelope and read the card.

_Dearest Clark Kent,_

_A token of my affection for two little boys who are proving most, most bothersome._

_Next time your gift will be much, much more public. Keep that in mind when you feel compelled to stick your sneaky little reporter’s nose where it isn’t welcome._

_Love,  
A busy gardener_

He didn’t recognize the handwriting and was about the x-ray through the cardboard when he heard steps approaching and door opened behind him.

“I’m not too early, am I?” Bruce’s voice filled the office with its smooth inquiry.

Clark gently laid down the card, feeling his pulse thrum lightly against his skin at the sight of Bruce, looking like he’d just stepped out of GQ. “Early? What for?”

Bruce slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket, smiling. “Your lunch invitation?”

“My…” Clark turned to destroy the box with his heat vision, but to his horror he saw that small red spores were already filling the air and that the box had fallen open to reveal a bouquet of flowers that were anything but natural. They looked deadly in their poisonous perfection.

He pushed past Bruce, slamming the door shut and closing the blinds in hopes of minimizing the exposure.

“What’s going on?” Bruce asked, turning on him, all blazing green eyes and black hair that looked like obsidian carved to life, skin just begging to be touched… and Clark blinked at him slowly, trying to remember what exactly words were and why they were important.

*

The glow burns him from the inside out, starbursts inside his skin that are exploding under Clark’s demanding palms and he rises with each ascending beacon of light, pulling closer and closer to the warmth that’s beckoning him with loose and wavering sounds.

“ _Bruce…Bruce…_ ”

He doesn’t really know what the string of consonants and vowels means, but he appreciates the auditory caress and brings Clark’s mouth down to his own so he can lick at its edges, map out the width and breadth with his tongue.

He’s aware that there’s something off in this situation, that there’s a persona he’s supposed to keep in place, but it slides off him so easily, evaporating into some kind of joyous abandonment. Clark’s expanse of heat is pressing down on him, a warm summer sky inviting him into its folds and teasing him closer and closer to the horizon. Surely this can’t be wrong, not when Clark’s murmuring electric pathways down the side of his neck and the sheer _necessity_ is overwhelming him.

There are red pricking needles behind his eyes, red like desire that surges to a crest against the borders of this other man; borders that are melting under the lush heat that’s calling out a name he’s already forgotten.

*

Clark is floating on a tide of epiphany, riding sensations that ripple through the sea of his consciousness. If he tries, he can hone in, like a camera panning above the scene and focusing on one small part of the larger picture. His hand cradling the inside of Bruce’s knee, his teeth scraping raw stripes across Bruce’s necks, Bruce’s hand fisted in the small of Clark’s back like an anchor to keep their flesh earthbound.

But panning out, he sees it’s too late; they’re now hovering two feet in the air. The box below is still sputtering out a few stray sparkles. Shouldn’t he have stopped it? But the sense of hurtling, the sense that it’s all too late tells him that even if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference. A truth cannot be undone. Flesh is easily unraveled from other flesh, but the principles underlying that flesh are more timeless than the passing of a breath in or a breath out, an ascent into the air or a descent to the earth. He is here, now, in this place, in this man, and for once in an existence that sometimes feels like it stretches too long, he has no regrets.

Bruce’s cries would be easy to swallow but he lets them fly free, watches them paint patterns in the air and fall in a shower around Clark, and then he’s lost in them, the rolling waves that sweep through him like warnings before an earthquake. He clings to Bruce, to himself, to them both, words tumbling from his mouth, _Bruce, Bruce, you are known to me, Bruce_ , until there is no air left, and all he knows is that he’s drowning an eternity of the force that drove him across the distance of two worlds twice in his lifetime.

*

_Richard,_

_I am so sorry about the mess. The package was a... surprise._

_If the replacement desk isn’t to your liking, I’d be happy to shop for another with you when I’m back in to work Monday._

_Sorry again._

_Humblest apologies,  
Clark Kent_

_*_

_Sarah,_

_Please cancel all my appointments for the next three days. If they ask why, refuse to re-schedule._

_B. Wayne_

_*_

_Dear busy gardener,_

_My sneaky reporter nose will stay well out of your business from now on. No offense was intended._

_But please realize that, by the same means I tracked you to this building, I can make certain you do not have another successful gift delivery. Think about that next time you’re considering making a surprise stop._

_Yours truly,  
Clark Kent_

_*_

_Ivy,_

_Thank you._

_B. Wayne_


End file.
